


Never Again

by Canon_Is_Relative



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s02e12 Nightshifter, Gen, POV Outsider, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:10:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2017485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canon_Is_Relative/pseuds/Canon_Is_Relative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of Dean's high school teachers watching TV after the events of 2x12, Nightshifter, when his face is splashed all over the news as the bank robber/murderer in Milwaukee</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Again

“I tried to get through to him,” is all he can say, shaking his head, the condensation from the bottle filming over his fingers. His beer is sweating and so is he and his eyes are glued to the TV and I just…I can’t, I don’t know what to do.

It’s new, to me, this whole thing. Caring about someone who cares about other people. Most nights we come home and he gripes about his workday while I make dinner and I want to tell him that if I was in his shoes I’d have taken a big old gun to the whole place by now. But usually by his third beer he’s loosened up, he’s remembering the good stuff, he’s telling me it’s all worth it.

Don’t think there’s going to be a third beer tonight. He hasn’t even made it through his first and the label on it’s already soaked through.

“I tried to get through to him. He was so bright, you know? When you can recognize that spark in ‘em, that potential. But there’s a brick wall there you can’t get through.”

He could have, I know that. I know that, with time, he can get through anything. But I also know about this boy of his. He’s told me about him, even before this. The one that got away. Well, one of many. And the thing he hadn’t had with this particular sob story was time.

Milwaukee’s not far from here and I can’t help but thank god the kid never got this far. Because, well, look at him. That face on the evening news. That face would launch a thousand fucking ships and I don’t want to be the one standing on the dock waving a goddamn handkerchief knowing I was sending my lover off to a certain death.

Maybe I get a little overdramatic when I’ve been drinking but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s still staring at the TV, still rubbing absently at the soggy label on his beer bottle.

“I always knew that kid was no good. Just…never knew how bad not-good was.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say, turning off the TV. “And it sure as hell isn’t your responsibility.”

He looks up at me, rubbing his wrists. “I ever tell you about his family?”

 _Christ._ Of course he has a family. Of _course_ it’s a story worth telling. I suppose I have nothing better to do but listen while I’m stirring the sauce and waiting on the chicken.

“I met his dad the once. He was in the office dropping them off, signing some papers. The way that kid looked at him…I mean, I’ve seen plenty of kids cowed by their parents, but this one, he wasn’t cowed. He was trained. All focused on his dad like he was taking stage directions from him. Jump when I say jump, you know what I mean?”

I don’t, and I don’t really care, but I nod and hum some kind of _yeah-go-on_ noise, because the food’s almost done and I’m starving.

“And then that kid brother of his. Shit. I didn’t have him, but Wyatt? He told me about him. Miles ahead of the class with an imagination he didn’t know what to do with. And completely dependent on his brother. To the point we discussed how to deal with them next semester, except they cut town and ran before grades were even in. I mean, you tell me, how do you handle two boys who seem fine on their own but get past the most superficial layers and they can’t seem to function without each other?”

I’m so beyond done with this whole prisoners dilemma shit but I can’t let the chicken burn so for once in my life I’m a little bit truthful. “Honestly? I don’t. I don’t handle it, I mean. They’re that fucked up, I call child services and I treat myself to a bottle of whiskey that night. It’s been like a decade, babe. Why can’t you let this go?”

He looks up at me and I can already tell my awesome dinner is going to waste tonight. He puts aside his beer and gives me a smile, a thin imitation of the one I’m used to seeing, and tells me not to wait up for him, he’s going for a run.

I finish his beer and another two and tell myself I’m never getting involved with a teacher again.

**Author's Note:**

> Theme = Outside POV. Prompt: Supernatural, author’s choice, one of Dean’s old teachers sees him on the news – “I always knew that boy was no good.”
> 
> Originally posted [here](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/540840.html?thread=76884392#t76884392)


End file.
